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Gansett Island Boxed Set Books 1-16 (Gansett Island Series) Page 21
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“You did a really good job.”
“Thanks. Let me know what I can do to help with the rest of it.”
“I appreciate that.” After Luke went back to work, Mac stared at the mess on the desk, wondering how he’d manage to get the repairs done and reorganize the business at the same time. “Looks like I got here just in time.”
Mac worked long days that week, spending hours in the hot sun on the roof and taking home stacks of paper from the office every night to sort through. He quickly discovered the business was in arrears to just about every major supplier and talked to his father about writing some checks.
“Go right ahead,” Big Mac said. “You got the same name I do. Sign away.”
“Is there money in the account?”
“Plenty.”
“Is there a bank statement lying around somewhere so I can confirm that?”
Big Mac gestured to the office. “In there somewhere.”
“Fabulous.”
Early each morning, he continued to take Thomas out for a walk, and on Tuesday they began work on a special project. Sitting in the South Harbor Diner, he propped the drooling baby up on the table so they faced each other. “Okay, buddy,” Mac said, “let me hear you say Ma-ma. Ma-ma. You can do it.”
“Mmmmm,” Thomas said, chewing on his fingers.
“Close, but not quite.” Mac tugged the fingers out of his mouth. “Ma-ma. Ma-ma.”
More drool. “Mmmmm.”
Mac was so focused on the baby that he didn’t see another man approach the table.
“He’s awfully cute.”
Mac glanced up and fought back a gasp.
“Mind if I join you?” Tom Wilkinson asked.
Mac lifted Thomas off the table and rested him on his shoulder, facing away from Tom. “Sure.”
Tom slid into the booth across from Mac and accepted a cup of coffee from the waitress.
“I didn’t think you’d be hanging around,” Mac said.
“I wasn’t going to, but something about this island calls to me. The writing really flows here.”
Mac once again found himself fighting for self-control when all he wanted to do was tell this guy what he really thought of him. “I’ve read some of your books,” he said, trying to stay on safe ground.
“That so?”
“Uh-huh.” Mac wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of hearing he’d enjoyed them.
“May I be honest with you, Mac?”
“If you must.”
“It took about thirty minutes on the island to find out you and Maddie aren’t really married.”
Mac’s heart began to beat faster. “We will be soon.”
As if Mac hadn’t spoken, Tom continued. “And to learn you only met her a week or so ago.”
Mac tightened his hold on Thomas. “What’s it to you?”
Tom sat back in the booth and stretched out an arm along the top. “Writers are notoriously bad at math, but even I can add nine plus nine to determine that’s probably my son you’re holding there.”
Mac swallowed a surge of panic. “He’s Maddie’s son.”
“No question about that. I guess the only remaining question is who’s his daddy? A DNA test should straighten that right out, wouldn’t you say?”
Mac refused to blink. “What do you want?”
Now Tom leaned forward, arms resting on the table. “Assurances that she’s not coming after me for money.”
“Has she yet?”
“That doesn’t mean she won’t.”
“She has no interest in you or your money. I can guarantee that.”
“What about him?” Tom nodded to the baby. “When he’s old enough to know who his father is?”
“He’ll have a father, and he’ll want for nothing.”
“Are you willing to put that in writing?”
“If you’re willing to sign away your rights to him.”
“I’ll have my lawyer draw up the documents.”
With one arm tight around Thomas, Mac reached for his wallet and laid it flat on the table to withdraw a business card. “Send the papers to my Miami office. They’ll get them to me.”
“And I won’t hear from any of you again?”
“If you hadn’t come here, you never would’ve heard from us in the first place. You have nothing we need.”
After a long pause, Tom said, “Is he a good baby?”
“The best.”
“I don’t suppose...”
“Don’t even ask.”
Tom shrugged, as if he couldn’t care less, and apparently he couldn’t, which was just fine with Mac.
“Can I ask you one thing?” Mac said.
“Sure.”
“What kind of guy tells a woman he’s had a vasectomy when he hasn’t?”
“The kind who’s allergic to latex but loves sex.”
Mac stared at him, incredulous. Maddie was lucky that Thomas was the only thing she’d gotten from this guy. “We’re done here,” Mac said, anxious to be rid of him.
Tom took the hint and stood up. “I’ll be in touch.”
Mac just nodded and watched him walk away, praying he’d leave the island before Maddie ran into him again. Mac kissed Thomas’s forehead. “Let’s hope you got more of your mama in you than that scumbag, buddy.”
“Mam.”
Mac stared at him, breathless. “Ma-ma?”
“Mammm.”
Mac grinned at the baby. “We’re getting closer.”
“Looks like it’s going to rain,” Mac said Thursday morning. “Let’s take the truck. You can drive.”
“I can’t drive your new truck!”
“It’s our new truck, and yes, you can. You do have a driver’s license, don’t you?”
She nodded. “But I haven’t driven in ages, and the truck is so new and perfect.”
Mac laughed at her distress. “It’s yours to use whenever you need it. In fact...” He rummaged around in his backpack and produced a set of keys. “Your own keys. I meant to give them to you before now.”
Maddie eyed the keys with trepidation as she reached out to take them. “All right,” she said with a sigh, “but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Before we go, Thomas and I have something we want to show you.” Mac picked up the baby from his mat on the floor. “You ready, buddy?”
“Ayeyayyayay.”
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Mac pointed to Maddie. “Who’s that? What’s her name?”
Thomas looked from one of them to the other.
In Thomas’s ear, he whispered, “Mama.” They’d had a breakthrough that morning. Mac prayed the baby would do it again.
“Mama,” Thomas said, clear as day.
Maddie gasped. “Oh my God!” Tears sprang to her eyes. “Did he just say... Oh my God!”
“Mama,” Thomas said again.
Maddie burst into tears and reached for the baby, hugging him close to her. “I can’t believe it! Where did that come from?”
“We’ve been practicing,” Mac said, overwhelmed by her reaction.
“I just can’t believe it.”
Thomas ran a chubby hand over the tears on her face. “Mama.”
“Yes, baby.” She hugged him tight. “I’m your mama. Who’s that crazy guy?” She pointed to Mac.
“Dada.”
Mac’s mouth fell open. “I swear, I didn’t teach him that.”
She laughed through her tears. “He seems to have come to that conclusion all on his own.” Maddie reached for Mac to bring him into their hug. “That was the best surprise ever. Thank you.”
“It was all Thomas.”
“With a little help from his dada.”
After they dropped Thomas off with Tiffany, Maddie drove painfully slow and made a full and complete stop at every intersection on the way to North Harbor.
“At this rate, we should get there by next Tuesday,” Mac muttered.
“Be quiet. I’m concentrating.” When they finally arrived, Maddie r
eleased a long sigh of relief. “That was stressful.”
“You’ll get used to it.”
“Whatever you say.”
He kissed her and sent her on her way to the hotel.
As she worked her way through her list of rooms, Maddie thought about the job offer from the Beachcomber and how it would make her life—and Thomas’s—much easier. She was on her last room when Daisy came rushing in, clutching the Gansett Gazette.
“You’re all over the paper, Maddie!”
A ripple of fear settled in Maddie’s belly. “What do you mean?”
“Look.” Daisy thrust the paper at her.
Maddie did a quick scan, gasping as she read one of the letters to the editor. “Oh my God. No. No!”
“You didn’t know?” Daisy asked, looking stricken.
“I have to go.” Leaving the room unfinished, Maddie rushed past her friend and headed for the stairs. On the hotel’s expansive front lawn, she fought back tears as she lowered herself into one of the Adirondack chairs and read the letters.
To the Editor,
I’m writing this letter to clear up a misunderstanding dating back to high school. Maddie Chester did nothing to earn the nickname we gave her, and it was wrong of us to say what we did about her.
Darren Tuttle
Gansett Island
“Oh my God,” Maddie whispered as tears poured down her face. “How could he do this to me? I told him that stuff in confidence!”
To the Editor,
It is with great shame that I write a letter that should’ve been written years ago. As a high school student concerned with the approval of my peers, I went along with something that I knew was wrong. It has haunted me ever since. Maddie Chester was branded with a nickname she didn’t deserve. She was never anything but a lovely girl with a sweet personality who didn’t deserve the way we treated her. The nickname she was given in high school was unfair and untrue. I regret the role I played in perpetuating rumors that have plagued her ever since. I sincerely apologize.
Evan McCarthy
Nashville, Tennessee
Maddie read letters from the four other men who’d participated in Darren’s scheme. While none was as eloquent as Evan McCarthy’s, each said roughly the same thing. By the time she finished reading them all, her hands were shaking and her cheeks were wet with tears.
She glanced at the marina and saw Mac at work on the roof. Oh, the things she’d like to say to him right now! Too bad she planned never to speak to him again.
Chapter 14
Ned broke the bad news to Mac—it took forever to get anything built on the island, especially a house.
“We’ve got three guys in the building business, and they’re all running about two years behind,” Ned said.
“Damn,” Mac said. “I guess that doesn’t bode well for getting someone to help me build a house anytime soon.” No way could he and Maddie survive in that tiny apartment for two years, and it would take at least that long to build a house on his own.
“I’ve been thinking ’bout that,” Ned said. “I’ve got a few properties in inventory that might work for ya, if you’d like to take a look. Nice houses, good views, lots of property.” Ned shrugged. “Might be quicker than building yer own.”
“You got time to show me these places today?”
“I got nothing but time, boy.”
Mac let his guys know he was leaving for a while and followed Ned to the cab. Over the next two hours, they looked at five different properties, and as they drove around, a new idea began to germinate.
“Let me ask you something, Ned.”
“Yep.”
“This building glut—you think there’s room for a fourth guy in the mix?”
“Hell yeah. It’s not just new stuff. Ya can’t even get renovations done in less than a year.”
“One of the things that’s worried me about sticking around here full-time is what I’d do in the off-season.”
“Now ya know.”
Mac laughed, and as simply as that, McCarthy Construction was born.
The fifth house they looked at called to Mac on first sight. An angular contemporary situated on six acres, the house faced a grassy meadow and the ocean beyond. Set back far enough from the coast to be out of danger during hurricane season, the house was mostly glass and deck.
“It was built in 1990, but it’s been fully renovated,” Ned said. “New hardwood floors, granite countertops, thermal windows. Kitchen and bathrooms all redone.”
Mac gazed at the cathedral ceiling in the living room, the stone fireplace and the breathtaking views from every room and could picture himself living there with Maddie and Thomas. Excitement coursed through him. He couldn’t wait to show it to her.
“It’s perfect. Just what I wanted.”
“And ya don’t have to build it yerself.”
“Even better.” Mac ran a hand over sand-colored granite in the kitchen. “How’s a place like this even available?”
“Major real estate glut on the island since the economy went bust. A lot of these houses are second homes for rich folk in Connecticut and New York. When the market imploded, they had to sell fast. I snapped up some great deals, and I’ve been sitting on ’em, waiting for the market to recover. I’ll give ya this one for what I paid for it.” He rattled off a price that astounded Mac.
“It’s easily worth twice that.”
“I don’t need the money, and yer family to me,” Ned said gruffly. “Ya know I ain’t got no kids of my own. You and yers are mine, so don’t insult me by haggling ’bout it.”
Touched, Mac shook the other man’s hand. “Thank you.”
“I hope you and yer little family will be happy here.”
Mac took another long look around. “I know we will be.”
Ned dropped him at the top of the road that led to the marina. Filled with anticipation, Mac whistled as he walked toward the main building.
Big Mac stepped away from the Wiffle Ball game he was playing with kids from the boats.
Mac stopped to wait for his father. “Wait ’til you see the house I found. It’s fantastic.”
“Son, Maddie was here. She’s real upset.”
That stopped Mac cold. “What happened?”
“She saw today’s paper.”
Mac gasped. “It was already in?”
“Yeah.”
“Shit! I thought I had at least another week to talk to her about it.”
Big Mac’s normally amiable expression hardened. “Were you planning to tell me about what my son was involved in?”
“I figured it was up to Evan to tell you.”
“One of you could’ve given me—and your mother—a heads-up. She’s beside herself.”
“All that mattered to me was restoring Maddie’s reputation.”
Big Mac held up the keys to the SUV. “She said to give you these because she won’t need them anymore.”
Fear crept up his spine as Mac took the keys from his father. “Where is she?”
“She took off about twenty minutes ago.”
“Where was she going?”
“Didn’t say.”
Mac strode toward the truck.
His father trailed behind him. “Son, wait.” With his hand on Mac’s arm, Big Mac stopped him. “Don’t go off half-cocked. Take a breath.”
“I need to find her, Dad. I’ve got to fix this.”
“You might want to give her some time to figure out that your heart was in the right place.”
“Everything will be fine. I just need to see her and explain.”
Big Mac patted his face. “Call me later? Let me know you’re all right?”
Mac nodded, got into the truck and raced into town. Wondering if she might refuse to see him, he broke into a cold sweat. She has to. We have to work this out. The alternative was simply unimaginable.
He pulled into Tiffany’s driveway and generated a cloud of dust on his way back to Maddie’s. Pounding up the stairs, he stopped s
hort at the sight of his backpack and running shoes sitting on the deck. She can’t be serious.
After a deep breath to slow his racing heart, he knocked softly on the door. “Maddie. Honey, open the door. I need to talk to you.” He tried the door and was astounded to find it locked. “Baby, come on. Let me explain.”
“She isn’t going to talk to you—now or ever—so you should probably get your stuff and go,” Tiffany said from the bottom of the stairs.
Mac spun around. “This is none of your business, Tiffany.”
“Who do you think mops up the mess every time she gets crapped on by a guy?”
“I didn’t crap on her.”
Tiffany shrugged with indifference that infuriated him. “Seems to me if you knew her at all, you’d get that being the center of attention in this town is the last thing she’d ever want.”
“Even if it means restoring her reputation?”
“You’re so clueless. You think you can come in here, wave your magic McCarthy wand and make everything all better. I hate to break it to you, ace, but it doesn’t work that way for the rest of us.”
“This is between me and Maddie. I’ll wait to talk to her about it.”
“She’s not here.”
“Where is she?”
“Even if I knew, you’d be the last person I’d tell.”
He sat on the top step. “Then I’ll wait for her. She has to come home eventually.”
“Suit yourself, but it won’t do any good. Once Maddie sees a guy’s true colors, she doesn’t give second chances.”
“Good to know.”
Tiffany turned, crossed the yard and disappeared into her house.
Mac sat there for a long time before he heard the unmistakable sound of a baby crying inside the apartment. He jumped up and went to the door. “Maddie, I know you’re in there. I just want to talk to you. We can work this out.”
Thomas’s cries broke Mac’s heart. He leaned his head against the door. “Maddie.”
“Go away, Mac,” she said through the open window. “I have nothing to say to you.” Her voice was rough, as if she, too, had been crying.
“I’m not going anywhere until we talk.”
After a long silence, the door finally opened. Mac was taken aback by her tear-ravaged face and saddened to know he was the cause. He reached for the screen door.